“I done tell you all I knows, chile. Jim,
he tuck’n light on de mule, an’ de mule
she up’n hump ’erse’f, an den dey
wuz a skuffle, an’ w’en de dus’
blow ’way, dar lay de nigger on de groun’,
an’ de mule she stood eatin’ at de troff
wid wunner Jim’s gallusses wrop ‘roun’
her behime-leg. Den atterwuds, de ker’ner,
he come ‘roun’, an’ he tuck’n
gin it out dat Jim died sorter accidental like.
Hit’s des like I tell you: de nigger wern’t
sick a minnit. So long! Bimeby you won’t
ketch yo’ train. I got ter be knockin’
long.”

II. UNCLE REMUS’S CHURCH EXPERIENCE

THE deacon of a colored church met Uncle Remus recently,
and, after some uninteresting remarks about the weather,
asked: